


i'd break all the rules for you (break my heart and start again)

by exbeekeeper



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimson Flower, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Mid-Timeskip, Non-Binary Butch Lesbian Ingrid, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Unrequited Love, but you can assume any others that would make you happy, the inherent homoeroticism of knighthood, the only recruitments that are canon to this fic are ingrid felix and leonie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 19:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21213743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbeekeeper/pseuds/exbeekeeper
Summary: Ingrid leaves behind everything she's ever known for the sake of a girl with lofty ideals and pretty lavender eyes. Neither of them are very good at asking for what they want. There's symbolic hair-cutting, self-sacrifice, war, guilt, drinking, and maybe love along the way.





	i'd break all the rules for you (break my heart and start again)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from your type by carly rae jepsen! i pulled a lot of inspiration for nb/butch ingrid from [j's fantastic dorogrid comic](https://twitter.com/jireemblem/status/1186799562012250112) so be sure to check that out as well if you like this <3 thank you for reading!

Ingrid bows her head. Emperor Edelgard wields Aymr, cuts a striking and imposing figure in the center of the throne room. Her ascension to the throne is still fresh – only recently did she storm the holy tomb, and here she sits, in their makeshift headquarters before the assault on Garreg Mach, interrogating her newest recruits with startling efficiency and coldness. Edelgard has systematically tested the loyalty of each of the former Black Eagles, Adrestian natives included, questioning them on their allegiance, their reason for joining her, their beliefs regarding her cause. 

Of course, she is sure, Hubert must have taken care of the real vetting long before any of them managed to get anywhere near this close to the emperor, even stripped of their weapons as they were – this is, Ingrid understands, merely a formality. If the emperor had wanted her dead – if Hubert had found her in any way lacking – she would not be alive to see this moment. 

This knowledge doesn’t stop the terror that wells up in her chest, a knee-jerk reaction to the feeling of Aymr’s blade pressed against her neck. It’s almost tender, Ingrid thinks through the hysterical panic building in her chest; Edelgard’s axe is like an extension of herself and even in spite of her fear the gentleness with which it is resting across her shoulders is heady and electric. 

“Ingrid Brandl Galatea,” Edelgard says. Her voice is steely and impassive, betraying no emotion whatsoever. “Of the Kingdom’s House Galatea, an offshoot of the Alliance’s House Daphnel. Bearer of the Crest of Daphnel. Childhood friends with Faerghus’s king himself.” 

Edelgard pauses. Ingrid’s not sure if she’s supposed to respond or not so she nods, slowly. Aymr’s blade scrapes across the nape of her neck. Edelgard seems satisfied, or at least satisfied enough to ask the first of her questions. 

“Why have you chosen to walk alongside me?”

And here is where Ingrid falters. Because Ingrid, for all her conviction, her true belief in Edelgard’s cause, her devotion to the emperor herself – Ingrid does not have an answer to this question. 

“Because you are my Emperor,” Ingrid says, finally, “and because I want to see the world you will build.” 

Edelgard looks down at her, assessing, scrutinizing. Aymr falters, lifts just a bit before pressing back down, smooth and cold. Ingrid hazards a glance up at Edelgard, and they lock eyes. Ingrid stares, unfaltering, until Edelgard herself looks away. 

“And your King?” 

Ingrid smiles, thinly. “I have no King, my Emperor. I… respect you too deeply to lie to you, so I will not pretend that I do not feel some measure of sorrow at the loss of what was once a dear friend, but the tyrant he has become… no. Someone like that could never be my King.” 

Edelgard smiles, small but warm. “I believe you. You were a noble, in the Kingdom. Galatea territory is small, and not particularly wealthy, but as I understand it with the appearance of a Crest-bearing heir you were on the up-and-up. Why would you throw that away for the Empire?” 

“The Crest-based nobility system has hurt so many of my friends,” Ingrid says honestly, “commoners and nobles alike. It has hurt me very personally. I never wanted – well.”

“Well?”

“I was willing to marry who my father told me to,” Ingrid says, “if I had to, but I never relished being treated like a prized mare, and I never wanted anything but to be allowed to be a knight, to make it on my own merit. That is why I have chosen to abandon my family for your sake. Because I believe this is the only way.” 

Edelgard smiles once more, and that is the end of it. Aymr lifts from her shoulders, and Edelgard pulls her to her shaky feet. Ingrid clings to her hand like a lifeline for what is probably too long a moment until she finds her footing. She bows her head.

“Thank you, my Lady,” she says, quiet like a prayer. Edelgard nods and turns her attention to the next person. Ingrid takes the dismissal for what it is and moves to join Felix and the other members of the newly-minted Black Eagle Strikeforce. 

\--------

The assault on Garreg Mach is grueling and terrible – she cuts down sweet Flayn, hears the girl call out to her brother before retreating – but she cannot bring herself to regret it. The professor disappears at some point, and Edelgard is distraught about it, but she pulls herself together and leads the remainder of the invasion admirably. Ingrid is ever more solidified in her decision: Edelgard is strong and fierce, and if this cannot sway her resolve then Ingrid is sure she can win.  
Garreg Mach Monastery falls in the early evening, and that night Ingrid finds herself at Felix’s door, a sword clutched in her hands. 

Felix opens the door with a _why the hell are you here_ on the tip of his tongue, but when he sees Ingrid his face goes – if not softer, then at least less cruel. He lets her in wordlessly, and she sits on the small, uncomfortable wooden chair at his desk, still holding the sword. They don’t speak for a long moment, until Ingrid says, “Can you cut my hair?” and the silence crashes down around them. 

Felix looks sharply at her. “It’s one in the morning, Ingrid,” he says, boredly, but he takes the sword from her grasp anyway and moves behind her. He wastes no time, refusing to give her the chance to change her mind, and the blade sings through her hair. It falls limply to the ground around her. 

Ingrid touches it gently. It falls around her ears, just barely to her chin, choppy and androgynous. She loves it. Her hair had been – not exactly a symbol of her family’s control over her and her duty as a woman to them, but a symptom of the same – and she is grateful beyond belief to be free of it.

She sits at Felix’s desk while he sweeps up the floor and then starts to go through his sword positionings, watching him quietly. “Thank you,” she mumbles, far too late, and he grunts in response. They don’t talk about it. 

The following day, she wears a soldier’s greaves instead of a dress. Dorothea coos over how hip her new hairstyle is, and Leonie nods at her in what she thinks might be solidarity, but their opinions are not the ones she will remember from this day. Edelgard notices as soon as she sets eyes on her, and in spite of what was clearly a sleepless night for her she gives Ingrid a wide, genuine smile. “You cut your hair,” she says, drawing closer. 

Ingrid casts her gaze toward the ground. “Yes,” she says, “It feels more… me.”

Edelgard nods, still smiling, and says, “I agree. You look very handsome like this, Ingrid.”  
Ingrid goes red all the way to her ears. She stammers embarrassingly for a moment before ducking her head, hand at the nape of her neck, and mumbling, “Thank you, my Emperor.” 

Edelgard laughs, but it doesn’t feel cruel, and as she walks away Ingrid’s heart is pounding. _You’re lovely,_ she wants to call after her, but that is not something Ingrid is allowed to say to her, so she keeps it to herself. She feels unmoored, though, in a way that is simultaneously freeing and devastating. Ingrid _wants_ when Edelgard is around, more than is probably appropriate given her station. Ingrid wants – she wants to sit close to Edelgard, hand in hand, and she wants to kiss Edelgard’s mouth and the curve of her neck, and she wants to fall asleep next to her and wake up next to her. 

The simple fact is that Ingrid knows why she chose to join the Emperor, and she knows all too well why she wanted to walk alongside Edelgard, but these two reasons are not congruous.

\--------

“It’s hopeless,” she finds herself lamenting to Felix and Dorothea sometime in the following weeks, after 1) a particularly grueling battle against some bandits that had blocked up the trade routes and 2) probably a bit too much alcohol. They’re sitting on the floor of Felix’s room, Felix himself pretending to sharpen one of his swords off to the side so no one can accuse him of having friends. Ingrid herself has her head in Dorothea’s lap, the latter combing her fingers through Ingrid’s short hair. 

Dorothea hums in response, and Ingrid takes this as an invitation to continue. “It’s like – like – when I’m around her, I don’t know how to collect myself. She’s so goddess-damned put together, and strong, and capable. I’m supposed to be protecting her, but it feels like I’m always coming up short. She called me handsome and I felt like my brain was melting.” 

Dorothea chuckles, and Ingrid swats at her arm in retaliation. “Well, you are handsome. Our Emperor has good taste.” 

Ingrid covers her face with her hands. “I’m not her type,” she groans. 

Felix sets his sword aside. “Ingrid, are you in love with the emperor?” 

Ingrid rolls over off Dorothea’s lap and onto her stomach to glare at him. “No! I just… admire her, I guess.” 

Dorothea laughs, long and loud. “Ingrid, dear, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure about half the reason you’re even here with us is because you’re head over heels for our Edie.” 

“I’m here because I believe in her cause,” Ingrid says with a frown, “Crests and the nobility system at large only cause pain, and I want them done away with. You know that, ‘Thea.”

Dorothea waves her off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But you also wanna get with the emperor. C’mon, I know you’ve thought about it!” 

“Please don’t tease me! I… sure, okay, I’ve thought about it _once or twice._ But that doesn’t –” Ingrid sighs, defeated. “Does it matter how I feel toward her, if she’ll never feel the same?” 

“Oh, Ingrid,” Dorothea says, voice full of pity. It makes Ingrid twitchy, like she wants to hit something but there’s nothing in sight to hit, nowhere for that feeling to go. 

Felix leans forward. “She called you handsome.” 

“...yes? She was being nice. She’s always nice,” Ingrid says with a frown. Felix scoffs at her.

“She’s never once called me handsome,” Felix says, pointedly. 

Ingrid makes a deliberate choice to misinterpret this. “What, do you want her to? Maybe you’re the one in love with her.” 

“That’s a weak comeback and you know it,” Felix says. 

“Don’t change the subject,” Dorothea says sweetly, and Ingrid wants so badly to hate her, “If you have real feelings for her, they mean something, even if you can’t see it right away.” 

Ingrid nods. She looks over at the long-abandoned bottles of wine. “I’m drunk,” she says, almost in revelation. 

“What tipped you off,” Felix says, not a question. 

“‘M gonna go home,” Ingrid says, “before either of you romantics can give me false hope.” 

“I’m not a –” Felix starts.

Dorothea cuts him off. “I’m gonna walk you home, okay, Ingrid?” 

Ingrid nods mutely, and Dorothea guides her by the elbow out of Felix’s room and down the hall. From Edelgard’s room she can hear – voices, the faint sound of crying – and part of her wants to reach out, to wrench her arm from Dorothea’s grip and throw herself headlong at whatever is hurting her emperor, but… Ingrid lived two doors down from her at the Academy. She knows all too well about the nightmares that plague her sleep. 

There is nothing she can do. She goes to bed with a heavy heart, and wakes with a pounding headache. 

\--------

Weeks pass, and Ingrid’s budding feelings for the emperor only grow with time. One afternoon, Edelgard summons her to her office – the same office that was once Seteth’s. She’s taking tea with Dorothea when she receives the summons, and her friend teases her as she stands, readjusts the pins that keep her hair out of her eyes, and frantically tries to make sure she’s presentable. 

“Go get ‘em, Ingrid!” Dorothea calls as she walks briskly out of the gardens, away from the gazebo and toward the monastery proper. Were Ingrid any less committed to her ideals of chivalry and propriety than she is, she would have made a rude gesture at her friend, and as it is she’s rather proud she manages to hold back. 

Edelgard’s office has no door, but Ingrid doesn’t want to just barge in on her emperor, so she knocks awkwardly on the stone to the side of the doorway. Edelgard looks up sharply and meets Ingrid’s gaze, but she smiles warmly when she sees who it is. It makes something jump in Ingrid’s chest, and she quickly does her best to squash it down. 

“You wanted to speak with me, my Emperor?” Ingrid says, still hovering in the doorway. Edelgard clasps her hands together.

“Oh, yes. Thank you for coming so quickly. I had some matters I wanted to discuss with you, so please come in.” Ingrid obliges, moving forward as purposefully as she can to stand at the emperor’s side. Edelgard points to Galatea territory on a map. “I thought it would do to ask you about this, since this was your family’s territory. This village here, what is their economy like? What are they passionate about?”

“Uh,” Ingrid says eloquently, peering at the village Edelgard is pointing at, “That’s barely a village at all, my Emperor. There aren’t very many people living there. It’s really more of a small farming community. They export wool and cheese when they have a bountiful season, but for the most part they’re barely scraping by.” Ingrid sighs. “It’s like that all across Galatea territory. Most of villages barely produce enough for themselves.” 

Edelgard nods. “Then, there would be no reason for the Kingdom to patrol it too heavily? If we were to house spies in Kingdom territory, in your professional opinion, would this be a viable option?” 

Ingrid considers this. “I’m not sure,” she says, “While the remnants of the Kingdom – Fraldarius, Gautier, Galatea – probably wouldn’t care about this village normally, I think its proximity to Fraldarius lands to the northeast makes it something of a predictable target. If I may suggest, I think you would be better suited placing your spies somewhere here,” Ingrid points to a town closer to the Galatea estate. 

Edelgard frowns. It is the slightest downturn of her lips and a furrowed brow, as if she is trying to understand some complicated puzzle. _Cute,_ Ingrid thinks helplessly, before shaking her head as though she can drive the thoughts away just like that. 

“But that is so close to your family’s estate,” Edelgard says, “Will they not be patrolling more heavily there than anywhere else in the territory?”

“On the contrary,” Ingrid replies, “they actually police that town the least of all of them. My father –” Ingrid closes her eyes, works through the pang of guilt she still feels at her betrayal of her father and brothers, “He assumes that town’s loyalty, so they don’t often bother with it.” 

“I see,” Edelgard says, “Thank you, Ingrid. This has been most helpful.”

Ingrid nods. “Will that be all, my Emperor?” 

The emperor stands, then, and turns to face Ingrid. “Just one more thing,” Edelgard says, looking up at her. “As I am sure you are aware, knighthood and all it entails is mostly a Kingdom concept. In the Empire, we do not have a dedicated cabal of knights, and have not for a very long time.” 

Ingrid can feel her face starting to heat up. She’s not actually sure where Edelgard is going with this, but Edelgard is standing close enough that Ingrid could lean forward and press their foreheads together and she doesn’t really know what to do with that information so she just stands very, very still as Edelgard pauses. “Ah – yes, I’m aware.” 

Edelgard nods, presses on as she always does. “However. I am sure you know that, when we are in battle, I am often our enemy’s primary target. As I am unwilling to remove myself from the front lines, Hubert has suggested that I might do well to appoint a knight anyway. Of course I am perfectly capable of defending myself, but he worries that if he is called away from my side something may nevertheless happen to me, and, well…”

Ingrid nods. She’s not sure why she’s being told all of this, but it makes sense. It would be devastating if Edelgard died – for each of them individually as well as for the Empire. Edelgard is well-loved. Edelgard is watching her in a way that, if Ingrid didn’t know better, she might almost categorize as nervous. Her cheeks almost look flushed in the afternoon sun. Ingrid doesn’t think it’s that hot, but perhaps the emperor has been working for too long. She hopes Edelgard isn’t catching a fever. 

“Well? Ingrid?” Edelgard says, bouncing on the heels of her shoes. 

Ingrid looks at her, uncomprehending. “I am sorry, my Emperor, I’m unsure what you’re asking of me.” 

Edelgard seems to deflate, which isn’t what Ingrid wanted at all, but she squares her shoulders before Ingrid can start to apologize. “I was – er – oh, hell, Ingrid, would you do me the honor of serving as my knight?” 

Ingrid is pretty sure she’s short-circuiting. Edelgard definitely looks nervous, now – nervous to ask this of her? Edelgard has to know Ingrid’s life is already hers – in a way that’s honestly almost cute. She’s so close. Ingrid wants to laugh or perhaps cry. 

Instead she drops to one knee, catching Edelgard’s hand in one of her own and lifting it almost to her lips before thinking better of such a forward gesture and raising it to her forehead instead. Edelgard seems surprised, but looking up at her, the sun from the great windows in the office reflecting off her hair, Ingrid cannot feel anything but warmth. “My Emperor, you must know I have already dedicated my life and my blade to your service. It would be a great honor and privilege if you were to grant me an official knighthood, and I would take up the position gladly, but my loyalty to you would not change, nor would my priorities.”

Edelgard’s whole face has softened. _She’s beautiful,_ Ingrid thinks, achingly. “Then,” Edelgard says, and Ingrid wonders if she’s imagining the slight tremor in her voice, “let me get Aymr.” 

She does, and Hubert besides, who stands at her right. Ingrid remains on her knee on the stone floor of the office, the sun soaking into her bare neck. “There aren’t words for a ceremony like this in the Empire, so I do hope you won’t mind if I improvise,” Edelgard says.

She raises Aymr. “Ingrid Brandl Galatea,” Edelgard intones, in her very-serious-emperor voice, “do you swear to fight and die for the protection of your Emperor, her cause, and her ideals, for as long as you may live?” 

Ingrid closes her eyes, then opens them again and meets Edelgard’s in a way she hopes is fierce and not longing. “I swear it.” 

Edelgard places Aymr once again at the juncture of her shoulder. Its weight is almost familiar, now, and it takes all the self-control Ingrid possesses not to shudder. Edelgard raises Aymr from her right shoulder to her left, then lets it hang at her side as she extends a hand. She brushes a thumb over Ingrid’s jaw, and Ingrid feels like a wild thing for that one, sparking moment, but then it passes and Edelgard is extending a hand to help Ingrid up once again. 

“Arise, Sir Galatea,” Edelgard says, “First Knight of the Empire.” 

Ingrid thrills at this, both at the title itself and what it implies. She stands and bows to Edelgard, hand over her heart. “I will not let you down, my Emperor.”

Edelgard smiles. “I am sure you won’t.” 

\--------

From then on, during their push through Kingdom territory toward Fhirdiad, Ingrid and Hubert remain, for the most part, at Edelgard’s left and right hands. Edelgard can more than hold her own in nearly any situation, but Ingrid takes her duty seriously nonetheless, and from her pegasus she can see across the battlefield toward threats Edelgard and even Hubert might not have identified as quickly. 

Like now. 

They’re taking Arianrhod and Felix’s dad is there. Ingrid vaguely hears Rodrigue shouting at his son, but she doesn’t catch Felix’s response at all because she urges her pegasus up toward the rooftops and there, a few dozen feet away clear on the other side of this row of buildings, a Kingdom mage is watching Edelgard intently, murmuring something under his breath, his hands moving in a way she’s seen Dorothea practice hundreds of times. 

“Shit,” Ingrid says, “shit shit _shit._”

Ingrid has to make a split-second decision, then. Hubert has left Edelgard’s side for the moment, chasing after Ferdinand, who rushed one of the Titanus and got himself into great danger because of it. No one else is there, and Edelgard is already hurt, Linhardt busy tending to those fighting the Titanus, so Ingrid urges her pegasus forward until she’s a few feet away from Edelgard. 

She leaps from its back and crashes to the ground, manages to use the force from her fall to knock her Emperor out of the way just as the Meteor comes careening out of the sky. Ingrid takes the full impact of the spell to her shoulder and her vision goes white with pain. Distantly she hears someone shouting, and remembers that the Meteor spell has an area of effect beyond its main target, and she curses herself for not getting there sooner. 

Someone is moving her and _oh,_ that doesn’t feel great. Ingrid forces her eyes to open and finds herself looking up into Edelgard’s lovely lilac eyes. She coughs. “‘M sorry, Edelgard. My Emperor. Sorry I couldn’t protect you better.” 

Edelgard looks even more upset by this – was she hurt that badly? Ingrid hopes not, Hubert would never let her hear the end of it – and clutches her arm tighter. “Ow,” Ingrid says, and her grip loosens. Edelgard won’t look her in the eyes. Instead she’s looking around frantically for something, someone. Ingrid can’t really tell what – her vision is still hopelessly blurred around Edelgard.

“Linhardt,” she’s shouting, “Someone get Linhardt!” 

_Oh,_ Ingrid thinks, _I’m dying._ It’s strange how little that upsets her, but then again Ingrid supposes it’s not strange at all. She had always wanted it to happen like this, if it had to happen – protecting her liege. 

Edelgard still looks upset. Why does Edelgard still look upset?

“Gh,” Ingrid says, reaching a hand up to cup Edelgard’s cheek. “‘s not my place, but can I ask you for something?” Edelgard nods, hands clenched tightly in the fabric of Ingrid’s tunic. “Win for me, okay? Please? I really… wanted to see your world.” 

Something wet hits Ingrid’s cheek, and then everything goes very dark very quickly. 

\--------

When Ingrid finally wakes up, she’s back in the infirmary at Garreg Mach. She sits up, still groggy, and looks around her. Linhardt, acting as their medic since Manuela isn’t around to do so, is napping in one of the beds on the other side. Felix is there too and he’s also asleep, head dropped down onto his chest, but he’s a much lighter sleeper than Linhardt is and Ingrid’s stirring wakes him. 

He scowls when he sees her. “Hey,” Ingrid says, voice raspy from disuse, “I almost died. The least you could do is look happy to see me.”

If anything, Felix’s scowl only deepens, which Ingrid doesn’t think is quite fair. “You’re unbelievable,” he says. “I thought you might put this self-sacrificial fixation on knighthood behind you when we left the Kingdom.” 

Ingrid laughs. “Why would you think that? I am our Emperor’s knight,” she says. 

Felix narrows his eyes. “The Empire doesn’t have knights.”

“No,” Ingrid agrees, “just the one. Sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew you’d be like this if I did. Surely you can understand my hesitation.” 

Felix drops his head into his hands with a groan. “Ingrid…” 

“Relax,” Ingrid says, “I know you’re worried about me.”

“I’m not –” Felix tries, but at Ingrid’s sharp look he backs down. 

“I get it,” Ingrid says, “Really. But this is something I have to do. I’m not going to apologize.” 

Something dangerous flashes in Felix’s expression, but, perhaps as a testament to how much these past months of war have changed him, he doesn’t push this into a fight. Instead he stands. “Just don’t forget there are people who need you alive, too,” he says gruffly, then turns and brushes out of the infirmary. 

Ingrid thinks perhaps she’ll get some sleep now, but just as quickly as Felix disappears another appears in his place. As far as Ingrid can tell, Hubert doesn’t even round the corner; he just materializes in the doorway, long coat billowing behind him in the nonexistent wind. Ingrid snorts, and Hubert raises an eyebrow. 

“I didn’t expect to see you,” Ingrid says honestly. 

Hubert nods. “I did not expect to be here, but it seems you’ve forced my hand.” 

Ingrid frowns. “What do you mean?” 

“When Lady Edelgard proposed that you be appointed as her knight, I did not trust you one iota. I thought you would be just another enemy for me to protect her _from._ You must understand my initial distrust; what with your Kingdom values, I had thought that you would not be able to devote yourself entirely to the Empire,” Hubert says, hands clasped behind his back.

Ingrid nods. “I understand. Then why are you here?” 

“Because it seems I was mistaken. Your performance at Arianrhod was admirable; I find myself cursing my own ignorance of that mage, but you protected Lady Edelgard without hesitation in my absence. I must thank you for that.” 

Ingrid opens her mouth to give some response about her devotion to the Empire and to her Emperor, but something Hubert had said before catches in her mind then and gives her pause. She frowns. “The knighthood… was her idea?” 

Hubert seems caught off guard. “I don’t follow.” 

“You said she proposed I be appointed as her knight,” Ingrid insists. Hubert nods, waiting for her to continue. “I’m just a bit confused. The Emperor made it sound like it was your idea.”

Hubert coughs. “I can’t imagine why. I really must be going now, Sir Galatea.”

“Wait, Hubert –” Ingrid barely gets out the second syllable of his name before he’s warped out of the infirmary, the drama queen. Ingrid sighs. 

Ingrid closes her eyes crossly. She falls back asleep, then, and dreams of gloved hands against her jaw. 

When she wakes, Edelgard is there. She’s sitting with her legs crossed at the ankle, hands clasped and fidgeting, staring down at them in her lap. Ingrid sits up quickly. “My Emperor, are you –” 

Edelgard places a hand on her shoulder. “At ease, Sir Galatea. You need to rest.” Ingrid follows the line of Edelgard’s gentle push willingly and falls back against the pillows, but she’s unwilling to let it go entirely. 

“You were hurt,” Ingrid protests, “Are you healing well?” 

Edelgard looks torn. “Ingrid, you really… Ah, I’m alright. I am very lucky to have such a devoted knight as you.” 

Ingrid goes red and ducks her head. “I was just doing my duty. I don’t need praise,” she protests.  
“But you deserve it. I really might have died, were it not for you. I must thank you. Your loyalty and quickness to action saved my life.” Edelgard is fidgeting with her hands again. 

Ingrid frowns at this. “Forgive me for addressing you so casually, but I… must ask you about something Hubert said.”

Edelgard looks taken aback. “Hubert visited you? I was not aware.” 

“Yes,” Ingrid says, “He wanted to thank me, for protecting you when he could not. He said – well. He implied that you were the one who pushed to appoint a knight. To appoint me as your knight.”

“I –” Edelgard says, and then huffs a laugh, “oh, Ingrid. It seems I must be honest with you now. I… I am captivated by your strength. I wanted you as my knight because I wanted you close to me, and because I knew how great an honor it would seem to you.” Edelgard sighs. “Maybe it was selfish, but I… I wanted to know that devotion. And now that I have known it I cannot get enough. Forgive me.”

Ingrid’s heart is pounding out of her chest. “My Emperor, what are you –” 

“I understand if you cannot feel the same, but I have held onto these feelings I have for you nearly since you joined the Black Eagles. I must admit I feel rather guilty, harboring this little crush while also asking you to die for me, but…” Edelgard sighs. “My feelings cannot come before the fate of my ideals, the fate of the Empire. I had hoped that maybe–”

“I understand! I understand entirely. To be a knight is to put the fate of your liege before everything else, before all personal attachments. Maybe it is a painful creed, but it is the one I swore my life to long before that life was yours. I – if you are truly saying that your feelings for me match mine for you, then nothing would make me happier than to devote myself to you entirely.” 

There is a flush high in Edelgard’s cheeks, now, and it makes Ingrid feel giddy. “Well – I – if you’re sure, Ingrid, then…” She closes her eyes, puffs up her cheeks, and then releases the breath all at once and says, very quickly, “would you take tea with me sometime? Not just as my knight, but as my –”

“Yes! Yes, please, I would love that.” 

When Edelgard smiles at her, the sun filtering through the high windows in the infirmary, it feels like absolution.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm [on twitter](https://twitter.com/exbeekeeper) yelling about these girls 24/7! come say hi!


End file.
